


Soddin' Hell

by SpikyFloof



Category: Constantine (2005), Constantine (Comic), Constantine (TV), Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics), Lucifer (Comic), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Crime Scenes, Everything is about Lucifer again, Gen, John Constantine being a bastard, John Constantine smokes like a chimney, Lucifer is solving crimes, solving a murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24078265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpikyFloof/pseuds/SpikyFloof
Summary: Lucifer and John Constantine are solving crimes together and might or might not get involved into each others lives more than they expected.
Relationships: John Constantine & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), John Constantine/Lucifer Morningstar, John Constantine/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), John Constantine/Lucifer Morningstar (Vertigo Comics)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72





	Soddin' Hell

John Constantine was a man who enjoyed his drinks preferably without company. He was the kind of chap you see sitting alone at the bar, drowning his sorrows in liquor. This night wasn't too different from that, although the establishment he had chosen wasn't where one would usually expect the man.  
He's been watching the nightclub he was currently in for the past week. Rumour has it that the wealthy owner is giving out favours and goes by the name Lucifer Morningstar. A fellow pretending to be the actual Devil wasn't too uncommon these days, but John went to investigate, nonetheless. Better safe than sorry, eh?

When he entered Lux, as the club was called, loud music was already blaring into his ears. Far too lively for his own taste, since several half-naked bodies moved in sync with the beat. Once he had descended the stairs that led to the dancefloor and approached the bar, he ordered some good old Gin and Tonic.  
The alcohol burned in his throat as he took his first sip, letting his eyes roam the crowded room. Everybody seemed to have a great time, dancing their night away with booze and drugs in their systems. John's eyes were drawn to a couple sitting not too far away from himself in a booth. They were kissing, making out like horny teenagers.  
When the man got up with a sly little grin John had the chance to fully take in his appearance. An expensive looking suit hugged the man's body, a stubble making his cheekbones and jaw stand out. His hair was slicked back in a fashionable manner and John would lie if he claimed that this man wasn't attractive.  
He also seemed to be fully aware of that, since some women tried to get his attention on his way over to the bar John was sitting at, but he declined them with his grin and some words, that didn't seem to disappoint the women too much. Once he had arrived at the bar next to John, he ordered two drinks for himself and his lovely companion, as he claimed.

"Havin' quite the fun tonight, huh?"

"Very much so, yes.", the man in the suit spoke, the grin on his face evident in his voice.  
He eyed Constantine, clearly not really impressed with his sense of clothing. But he at least had a pretty face.  
"Would you like to join in on the fun?", the man continued.

"Ta mate, but no. I'll stick to the booze.", and as if to emphasize his words he took a sip of his G’n’T. 

"A shame.", the man in the suit said with slight disappointment in his voice. "Michael, why don't you get this lovely gentleman another drink?"

"Sure, Mr. Morningstar.", the bartender called out and started pouring John another drink. The name he mentioned got John's attention, not that he'd show it. Instead he retrieved a cigarette from the package in the pockets of his beige coat.

"You're the bloke that owns this soddin' place?", he asked while lighting said cigarette.

Lucifer's mouth curled into this flirty grin yet again. "I am. You sound surprised.", and with that his companion from earlier seemed to have grown unimportant, since he downed one of the drinks he had ordered and stayed seated next to John, who was inhaling some smoke.

"Didn't count on meetin' you that early in the night. I'm not even proper drunk yet." As he spoke smoke curled from his lips and mixed with the air of the nightclub.  
"I take you've been looking for me then.", Morningstar assumed. "Do I meet all your expectations?"

Cocky bastard. "Thought you might look... scarier. For a bloke that calls himself like the Devil you're quite the handsome bastard.", John's gaze was fixed on his drink as he spoke. "But your accent is just a little too posh, love."

“Is that so? You wouldn’t mind sharing where you picked up yours, would you?”, the Devil asked, before his arm raised and he took a swig of his drink.  
“Liverpool.”, came the short answer, smoke coming out of his mouth in bursts as he spoke.

“Ah yes, then there is no doubt about it. The coat, the accent, smokes like a chimney and has that all too mysterious vibe around him. You’re John Constantine, aren’t you?”  
John raised an eyebrow at that, his gaze meeting Lucifer’s, whose face wore than cocky grin again, that makes you wish to punch it off his lips. “You know me then, mate?”

“I know of you. Now don’t feel special, Constantine. I was looking forward to meeting you. Especially after your little show you pulled with the First of the Fallen. I was impressed. Pretty smart for a mortal.”  
John’s facial expression went from surprised to utterly confused. Where did that guy know all that from? Unless he was… “… the actual Lucifer. Archangel.”, he stated, more to himself, but Lucifer heard him none the less.

“Of course I am. Was there any doubt about it?”

John just kept quiet for a moment, taking a long drag on his cigarette. “Bollocks.”, he claimed after that, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.

The well-dressed man beside him let out a disappointed sigh. “All the same with you humans. Always denying the truth even if it’s set down right before your grubby little hands.”  
Thank God Constantine was saved of the little ramble of Lucifer’s, which seemed to would have continued on, by a vibrating phone inside the jacket of the Bringer of Light. With a quick glance on the device the tiniest of smiles appeared on Lucifer’s face, which would’ve gone unnoticed, if Constantine hadn’t been sitting this close. “Speaking of Me, duty calls. I’m terribly sorry to just leave you hanging here, Constantine. I hope you come by tomorrow night to continue our little talk. Until then, drinks are on me.”

Who would John Constantine be if he didn’t accept that offer of free drinks? He only regretted it the morning after, when he woke up in some girl’s bed with nothing but his tie on and a horrid hangover. The girl was even nice enough to only throw him out after breakfast, a cup of coffee and Constantine giving his word to call her.

John left her place with a dull ache still in his temples. Once his tired feet hit the pavement of the busy streets of LA, a cigarette dangled from his lips already. He lit the little piece of portable death, inhaled the smoke and released it from his lungs with a relieved little sigh. The first of the day always tasted the best.

He hadn’t planned much for today. Maybe he’d pay a visit to an old friend, if he could even call him that, or he would just waste the day away in one of the many pubs around here, until Lux opened its doors in the evening. Of course, he was curious to talk to Lucifer again. It’s not every day you meet an angel, even less likely an archangel and most uncommon the archangel that was cast out of heaven for asking too many questions. Additionally, he was curious as to what God’s favourite son wanted to talk about with an unimportant little wanker like Constantine. 

By now John had, after quite the reluctance, accepted that Lucifer must’ve told the truth. Enough gin had lubricated the gears up in his noggin, adding two and two together and realizing that Lucifer might actually be who he claimed to be. A decent amount of doubt was still left, but really, what reason would Lucifer have to lie? Especially since he seemed to know a thing or two about the supernatural world. And about Constantine himself, which was a bit unsettling, but no news to John.

For now, the Englishman kept on walking, his thoughts drowning in the noise of the traffic and the pain in his head. His walk sadly didn’t stay as peaceful as he wished. As he turned the corner, he could already see the blue lights of police cars flashing in the distance and a crowd gathered around a yellow tape, marking the place of a crime scene.

Don’t do it, Constantine. Don’t stick your nose into shite that isn’t your business. You’ve got enough problems yourself, mate. 

“…Bollocks.”, Constantine succumbed to his awful need to help people in trouble. His cigarette landed on the floor and he extinguished it by taking step onto it, making his way through the crowd. Once he reached the yellow tape, he lifted it over his own head, earning a few confused glances from the bystanders. Unfortunately, he didn’t get far, as a police officer standing guard at the tape stopped him. 

“Sir, please stay behind the tape. This is an active crime scen-…”

“Ta, mate.”, Constantine interrupted the officer, flashing a playing card to him. “Let us have a quick look, eh?”

After glancing at the playing card and seeming to be content with whatever was written on it, the officer let Constantine pass with a nod. Pleased that this old trick worked every time, John proceeded with his way to where the action had occurred. A few forensic examiners did their work on and around the body, detectives talking to what seemed to be slightly traumatized witnesses.

Constantine crouched down beside the quite graphically displayed body, scrunching up his nose as the potent smell of iron entered his nostrils. “Christ…”, Constantine muttered quietly to himself, taking in the sight of the dead woman. She seemed to have been young, maybe in her twenties. Her clothes, drenched in blood, seemed to have been chosen with the goal of going out partying. Poor sod. Not much of her top was left, four long tears running down diagonally from her left shoulder downwards, along with the tissue of her skin, deep enough to leave a big scar, would she have survived. Her skull seemed to have been bashed in from behind, judging by her ill-shaped head and the way blood had gathered around it as well.

“Nasty, isn’t it?”, a voice suddenly boomed right next to his ear, startling John for a brief second. The hair on his arms stood in goose bumps, as the light breeze of hot breath rushed by his ear.  
“Soddin’ bastard.”, Constantine exclaimed, raising to his feet quickly and turning to see who was breathing down his neck. To his dismay Lucifer was standing in front of him, far too close to his own likening. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”, John demanded to know. He stepped to the side to flee his uncomfortable position, since he was trapped between the dead body and the King of Hell. Sounds like an awfully normal day in the life of John Constantine.

“I’m working, silly. As of late I’m working as a consultant for the LAPD.”, a prideful grin graced his lips, his head twisting ever so slightly upwards.

“You’re an arrogant arsehole, ’s what you are.”, Constantine stated, still pissed off about the fact that Lucifer managed to startle him while he was distracted. Ah, but who was he to hold a grudge against the devil. “What’s this about, then?”, John changed the topic masterfully, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his packet of cigarettes.

“A murder. Very exciting, you humans and your ways to punish others. Gives me quite the ideas.”, Lucifer’s grin didn’t falter a bit. He actually seemed to enjoy this. “But tell me, Constantine, what are you doing here?”

Good bloody question, he didn’t even know himself. Maybe his sixth magical sense led him here, perhaps he had just been nosy. With a flick John’s lighter lit up, giving him a bit more time to think of a good answer while he ignited his cigarette.

“Working, silly.”, he then decided to copy Lucifer, which earned John a displeased face. This, on the other hand, amused John. Before the devilish club owner could answer, Constantine continued. “Are you goin’ to tell me about the body, or do I have to go ‘round and find out m’self?”, smoke leaving his mouth as he spoke.

To his surprise Lucifer was in a helpful mood, turning his head upwards. His hands rested folded behind his back as he was looking up at the buildings, which stood tall on either side of the road they were on. Constantine followed his gaze, not noting anything unusual.

“She fell from the window of her flat up there and only died at the impact.”, the Devil explained, his facial expression a bit thoughtful now. “You might prove to be useful.”, he then added, looking back at Constantine, whose cigarette was hanging from his lips. John raised an eyebrow. Before he could decline or say he wasn’t interested after all, Lucifer waved him along and led the way to the building they had only just looked up at.

Hesitantly John then followed Lucifer, swearing quietly under his breath. What have you gotten yourself into again, Constantine? Your own fault. Shouldn’t’ve been nosy.


End file.
